


In Every Pie

by Barfily



Series: Gyuboo [3]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Eating Disorders, M/M, unhealthy coping mechanisms regarding food
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-16
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-04 21:22:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,698
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25303027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Barfily/pseuds/Barfily
Summary: As always, Seungkwan has everything completely under control and he doesn't need any help from anyone.
Relationships: Boo Seungkwan/Kim Mingyu
Series: Gyuboo [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1730479
Comments: 18
Kudos: 151





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This is a direct sequel to Some Nerve! which will become apparent pretty immediately i think.
> 
> I'm not 100% on the eating disorder tag, but better safe than sorry.

Mingyu lifted him right off the bed. 

_Fuck._

Seungkwan is in the shower, leaning against the wall, forehead against his arm, hand stroking up and down his cock. 

It's so swollen and sensitive and he's so close. The right touch could have him coming in seconds, but the heat of his arousal is spreading all the way down his thighs, coiling tight in his gut. If he does it right, this orgasm could knock him out cold the rest of the night, and he likes taking his time with this anyway. Doing it properly.

He forces himself to calm down, slowing the movement of his hand, thumbing the leaking tip of his dick, sending sharp, tingling shivers across his skin.

Mingyu fucked him last week, and this is the third time Seungkwan's jerked off to the memory. 

This always happens. There's something about how utterly shameless Mingyu is. He fucks Seungkwan like he was just waiting for the chance, like he's never felt anything better, like he could go for ages, and last time – fuck. He _lifted Seungkwan from the bed_ , held him to chest as he drove inside Seungkwan's body, and the sheer strength that took – Seungkwan whines, biting at his lip, works himself with sudden, immediate urgency, toes flexing against the tile as he remembers the strength in Mingyu's arms. Even the strength in Mingyu's hand, directing Seungkwan's head where he wanted as they kissed.

There is a bit of embarrassment in admitting how impressive he found it, how hot it was. Mingyu thrusting that fat cock into him like - like some kind of wild animal. How good it felt. Fuck.

He and Mingyu are hot and cold with one another, but where Seungkwan will often have lingering hesitation about letting his guard down completely, Mingyu doesn't have any problems admitting that he likes Seungkwan. Not when it's this. He goes for it with everything he has as soon as he gets a green light. 

Maybe that's why he's so good. Why Mingyu fucks him so well. _G-God_. Mingyu. 

Seungkwan pants, hand moving faster and tighter on his dick. Mingyu's voice, low and heavy with arousal. 

_I'm already fucking you, baby~_

Shit. Seungkwan whines again. He remembers the praises, the petting – 

_I wanted to tease you til you cried_.

Seungkwan's mouth drops open and he's coming. His vision whites out from the intensity, each muscle in his body tightening from the extreme rush of sudden pleasure as it courses through him, exploding in release, pumping his dick through the last of it.

He breathes. 

The shower is still running behind him, the water is pleasant and warm, the air is pleasant and warm, Seungkwan feels spent and soft, and just as sudden as that, it's a struggle to stay awake. 

He blinks down at the streaks left on the shower tile. 

The shower head is western style, mounted into the wall and he can't angle it to wash his shame away properly, so he cups the spray in his hand, throwing meager handfuls of water it at the mess, for some reason reluctant to touch the stuff outright. If it had landed on his stomach he wouldn't think twice about it. 

Sufficiently clean, he shuffles into the hotel room. His roommate is Joshua, who is already curled up in bed, face lit up by his phone. He doesn't bother looking away from the screen.

"Thought you fell asleep in there."

"Who says I didn’t?” Seungkwan says, climbing into bed. Joshua hums in amusement, and Seungkwan turns off the light, and it's quiet. 

This is good. This is the kind of roommate Seungkwan should have during a schedule. 

He can't share a room with Mingyu again, he thinks, disgruntled and tired. What a terrible idea that was. On tour and everything, he had been so _sore_ the next day. 

Mingyu in general is pretty impractical. Too tall. Too big. A person always has to account for Mingyu – what he's going to say, or break, or what awful little _looks_ he'll send Seungkwan's way with his stupid, perfect face after he's done something especially aggravating. 

Seungkwan is in an uncharitable mood, thinking these uncharitable thoughts, because Seungkwan is embarrassed. He can't forget the thing that pushed him over the edge just now, the awful words that came out of Mingyu's mouth, strong enough to make Seungkwan come just at the memory. 

Shameful. 

Mingyu can never find out. 

In his exhaustion, though, it's hard to stick to his anti-Mingyu agenda, and really, that was a great orgasm. His head sinks into the pillow and the next thing that pops into Seungkwan's mind, uninvited, is a very random memory, one from years ago, Seungkwan's cheap, awful headset breaking minutes before they had to go on stage. 

Seungkwan had been stunned, horrified, holding the two separate pieces in his hands in numb shock. It had felt like the end of the world, and he looked around, lost, but before he could even find the words, Mingyu was there. Mingyu had taken his own set off his ear, unclipped it from his shirt, and passed it over, taking Seungkwan's broken one for himself. 

"Our main vocal needs it more, right?" he'd said. 

It was one of those rare moments Mingyu really felt like a hyung in more than just name. 

Annoyed, Seungkwan rolls over. He's too exhausted to keep up his eternal fight with the day, he surrenders for now, softening to sleep.

-

Soup, kimchi, rice, and toast is the breakfast menu. 

Seungkwan goes downstairs with the intention to be especially good today, but as soon as he reaches the hotel lobby filled with the scent of Starbucks and pastries, he knows he's going to cave before noon. 

Alright. New plan: today, Seungkwan will build his meals around a big lunch. No toast at breakfast, then. A small portion of the soup, too, and he fills his cup with water instead of juice. 

He scoops the rice onto his bowl, adding up the portions silently so he can put them to the food app on his phone, ignoring the sounds of the rest of the members carelessly eating. 

Jihoon is so light that even at the peak of his work outs, body sculpted with hard, heavy muscle, he still weighed less than anyone else in the group. Back then he was drinking full two liters of cola, too, sometimes in one day! All to himself. Unreal. This is justification Seungkwan used to cling to – if he was eating the same amount as Seokmin, or Jihoon, or Wonwoo!! And none of them thinking twice about it! Well!! It's only fair! 

But life isn't fair, and complaining about it does nothing. 

It's just a fact of life that when Soonyoung gains weight, his cheeks get full and soft, and fans coo, calling him their hamster. 

Seungkwan gets called pig. 

"Take a bite," Seokmin says, holding up his toast to Seungkwan's mouth when he joins them at the table. 

Seungkwan stops, and stares it down. 

It's covered in streaks of honey and powdered sugar, a heap of butter on top of thick, white bread, probably freshly made just that morning – _carbs, sugar, sugar, sugar, oil, salt._ When Seungkwan hesitates, Seokmin takes another quick bite himself, then holds it out again, more insistent. 

"It's really good," Soonyoung says, cheeks puffed out through is his meal. 

"It's really good," Seokmin agrees. 

Seokmin is a kind, pure soul, never able to keep concerns about Seungkwan's weight at the forefront of his thoughts, because why would he? Seokmin's opinion of Seungkwan doesn't change with his weight. He just wants the people around him to be happy, and right now, Seokmin's sure that means Seungkwan eating toast.

Sighing, Seungkwan takes a bite.

" _Noo_ ," he whines, chewing – it's too good. The table laughs. 

Just one bite. It's fine. 

But the flavors are still dancing on Seungkwan's tongue after he swallows, and the slices of toasted bread are still piled on the table, waiting. 

Maybe… if he had egg, instead of honey… _protein, fat_ , but it's scrambled, they probably added all sorts of butter and cheese and onion and salt, and he'd still want the butter on the toast itself… _oil, salt, fat, fat, fat_ , and then that thick, delicious bread, it's sweet, probably full of _sugar, carbs, carbs, carbs, more salt –_

"You're going to the gym today, right?" Jeonghan asks, in a kind way, like he's giving Seungkwan the excuse to indulge. Jeonghan can be a strict hyung, but he delights in getting his members to cave against their better judgment and treat themselves. 

Like a good hyung, Jeonghan has grabbed a slice of bread, and started buttering it for him. "Here."

Seungkwan sighs, and accepts it.

A bunch of of rotten enablers. Seungkwan was doomed from the start! 

But that's an excuse, and he knows it even as he thinks it, clinging to it long enough to let him enjoy breakfast. 

-

On his way to the hotel gym, Seungkwan sees the day's date on his phone. The numbers feel significant, but he can't remember why. It's none of his member's birthdays, not his sister's, not his mom's… he checks his calendar and doesn't see any of his friends, either. 

He's still trying to think of the answer when a message slides on screen, from Seventeen's most senior manager, distracting him completely. 

**Manager-nim** :  
Seungkwan-ya, are you familiar with a rookie named Lee Youngwoon?  
Did you spend time with him three weeks ago?

Seungkwan knows the name straight away – Youngwoon debuted earlier this year. He's from Jeju, and Seungkan had been impressed with his vocals. They exchanged numbers a few months ago, but they've never made time to get together in person. 

**Seungkwan** :  
I know Youngwoon  
But no, I haven't seen him  
why?

 **Manager-nim** :  
I'm clearing up an issue.

 **Seungkwan** :  
?? 

**Manager-nim** :  
Don't worry about it for now.  
Thank you for your honesty.

 **Seungkwan** :  
?????

 _Thank you for your honesty_ has his heckles up immediately, and confusion starts congealing into worry in Seungkwan's gut, alongside the greasy, fatty mush he ate for breakfast. 

He sends a quick message to Youngwoon asking how he is, then puts his phone away and tries to forget it. 

In the gym, he stretches. 

He runs on the treadmill. He does resistance training. He does push ups, sit ups, squats. He does curls. He runs on the treadmill again.

He's sweating and disgusting by the end, shaking slightly from how he pushed himself, muscle aching in a pleasant way he'll be proud of later, a steady, tender burn. The only thing on his mind is the Americano he just earned waiting for him in the lobby, when he bumps into a solid wall of muscle standing in the exit. 

He is only surprised by the sudden appearance, he knows the shape and warmth of this body, the faint scent of his sweat, instantly. 

He looks up at Mingyu's face. 

It shouldn't be intense, there's no reason for it to be intense, but their eyes catch before Seungkwan steps back, and neither of them say a word. 

So it gets intense. 

"You're all pink," Mingyu finally says, and runs his thumb along Seungkwan's cheek, moist with sweat. Seungkwan flinches back as though it burned. 

Then he clears his throat and forces a smile. 

"Work hard," he says in english, and then smacks Mingyu's ass as he steps by. 

Distracted, Seungkwan decides to go up to his room instead, and shower, and he jerks off again.

His attraction to Mingyu these days is starting to become ridiculous. It sits just below his skin, ready and waiting to set him on fire with a look or a word, or a pointed, heavy silence. 

In Seungkwan's head, he and Mingyu are stuck in the awkward moment in the door of the gym, and Mingyu breaks it by manhandling him against the wall, kissing aggressively, digging his nails into the flesh of Seungkwan's ass, forcing Seungkwan up onto his toes and then clear of the floor entirely. This is so bad. This is so stupid. Seungkwan thinks these things, but they don't stop him from coming as he imagines how easily and greedily Mingy could manhandle him.

He takes a nap. When he wakes up, there are twenty-three notifications on his phone, five of them really catching his attention: 

**[LAST MATCH - EP. 018 PRE-SHOW QUESTIONS AND OUTLINE]**

Seungkwan downloads the doc immediately, excited to see what they're planning for his appearance on _Last Match_. It's much earlier than he usually gets an episode outline, and he's impressed.

The next message, less so.

 **Kim Mingyu** :  
Now I'm pink too ^^

It comes with a selca clearly taken after his work out. 

Mingyu is shirtless, pressing a peace sign into his cheek. His skin is glistening and glowing and gorgeous, and in the mirrors behind him, Seungkwan can see Mingyu's perfect fucking body; broad shoulders, muscled back, trim middle. Jesus Christ, fuck Mingyu, honestly. Seungkwan scowls in disgust and closes the message, moving on to the next

 **Kung-ssi** :  
seungkwan-ssi!! I'm still waiting but I can't be patient forever!

Seungkwan rubs at his face, trying to fully wake up. Kung is an older man and a bit erratic, so Seungkwan reads it once, groans with a pretty good idea what he's talking about, decides he's not awake enough to deal with it yet, and opens the last message that caught his attention.

 **Youngwoon** :  
Hyung~  
I hope you're having a good day. ^^  
Did you eat well?  
I heard you forgot about our trip last month to Daegu…  
Can I jog your memory? ^^

That wakes him up. 

Seungkwan sits upright, frowning. 

It's _possible_ Seungkwan could forgot crossing paths with Youngwoon on a busy enough day. It would take a severe head injury for him to forget an entire trip to Daegu. Sighing, he taps the phone icon beside Youngwoon's name. It only takes one ring. 

"Hello?"

"Youngwoonie~" Seungkwan says, keeping his voice the approachable, warm thing he tries to use with dongsaeng. 

"Did you just wake up?" Youngwoon asks, laughing.

"Mmm, from a nap," Seungkwan says. He's alone in the room but he smiles, fake and wan, trying to keep his calm. "Tell me about this visit to Daegu, Youngwoon."

"Right – yeah," he says, then clears his throat. "So, uh. You said that if I needed something, I could come to you."

It's a worrying start, but Seungkwan hums in agreement, indulgently. "Of course."

"Sooo," Youngwoon says. "I needed someone to say they saw me in Daegu."

Seungkwan's quiet for a beat. "You want an alibi?"

The disbelief in his voice must have hit Youngwoon's ear as agreeable, because he's suddenly much more confident, "Yeah, cause we were at this party in Bukoul, and these guys I didn't know showed up. And they had – you know, they had _stuff_ with them – "

"Stuff."

"Meth," Youngwoon says. "Or – I don't know, something, weed, maybe. I didn't even stay long enough to find out. But they got caught, and they must have recognized me, cause now my name's coming up, and I had to give a statement – "

"Then why didn't you say what you just told me?"

"Because who's going to believe it??"

"Well, that's the risk you take," Seungkwan says, pronouncing each word carefully. "When you go to an open house party in Bukoul." 

"It's not like it was a bad situation! My friends were there, it was – normal," Youngwoon says. "Until these guys showed up."

"Except it _was_ a bad situation," Seungkwan says, anger starting to leak into his voice, and he climbs up to his knees on the bed as he goes. "Because you lied about it, and you dragged _me_ into it, and that drags all _my members_ into it – " Seungkwan stops, and breathes deep, realizing how close he was to actually shouting. 

"But – but everyone trusts you," Youngwoon says, desperate. "No one would think you're involved in anything like this, if you said – "

"They trust me because I don't _do anything like that_ and I _don't lie_ about it." 

"So... you can't help?"

Youngwoon's voice is suddenly unsure. Seungkwan's eyes shut, remembering that Youngwoon is a 02 liner.

Eighteen year old Seungkwan never would've done this on his own, but then – he can't say that for sure, because eighteen year old Seungkwan was never on his own. He was sent to Seoul by himself, but there he was immediately put into the care of twelve trainees, to lean on, and answer to. 

He feels a surge of gratitude, anew, for his members, who meant he never had to ask this question before. 

His members, who are sometimes uncomfortable with how quickly and easily Seungkwan makes friends... How often he gives out his number... 

Well, maybe this is why. 

"I have to go. I'll call you later," Seungkwan says. 

"Thank you," Youngwoon says, a rush of gratitude, misunderstanding Seungkwan's tone, again. 

"I am going to call you," Seungkwan repeats each word slowly, the broiling frustration in his gut making each one hot with anger as it passes over his tongue. "Later." 

"… Right," Youngwoon says, weaker. "Okay. Thanks."

He hangs up. 

Seungkwan's not sure if Youngwoon is lying. He'd like to believe him, but his gut is saying there's a lot worse than what he's confessed to. 

Frustrated, Seungkwan flops backward on the bed, pressing the phone to his forehead. 

He can't think of a fix for this, but there's no reality where he'd knowingly risk his member's reputation. 

And he needs to tell them about all this, soon, it's their business as much as his.

The idea is awful, though, he doesn't want that conversation, especially right now, when he's still conflicted about it. They'll be able to tell, and they'll be annoyed that he's hesitating at all… Well, the answer is obvious, right? Just tell Youngwoon no, push him back out into the water and let him sink or swim on his own. Just… watch and do nothing. That's the easiest thing, right?

"Going to bed already?" 

It's Seungcheol. Seungkwan snaps upright, tucking his phone away guiltily, as though Seungcheol will know the conversation that happened on it on sight. But Seungcheol isn't paying attention, bending down at Joshua's luggage, digging through the bag to find a phone charger. 

He doesn't even notice that Seungkwan didn't answer until he gets on his feet again. He pockets the cord, then frowns at Seungkwan, still on the bed. 

"Feeling alright?" he asks.

"Yeah," Seungkwan says. "I'm getting up now."

"Good – you should hurry, the hotel has a guest chef from Europe serving lunch," Seungcheol says. 

"Oh, wow," Seungkwan says. He ends up joining Seungcheol back down to the lobby. 

A new concern bubbling up in his stomach. 

_No problems~ you had such a hard work out! You didn't even have an Americano!_ The voice in his head is Jeonghan's. 

The temptation is strong, and caving to it used to be a guilty pleasure, but over the years that feeling has become something he dreads – one he's learned to fear, a bit. Giving into this craving, slipping, he's fallen down into this pit before, inch by inch, and by the time he reaches the bottom he's avoiding his reflection as he passes by, forcing himself to stare, regretfully, at footage of his face in videos – he doesn't want to end up there, he's done so well for so long. 

He shouldn't have had the toast. 

His members all encourage him to have a big lunch, and Seungkwan goes along with it, but it's less fun than it was this morning. 

He feels the food coating his mouth, then sitting heavy in his stomach. The weight of it will ease, as it dissolves into his body, becoming a part of him until he burns it off with exercise. 

Dreading the total of his meals so far, Seungkwan doesn't bother to look, just enters his best estimate into his app and then closes it. Before he can save, a new message slides on screen. 

He's sure it's Youngwoon, and he's annoyed, and then panicked, not wanting to deal with this yet, but then afraid it's somehow gotten worse in the hour since they last talked. It's not Youngwoon, though. 

**Kung-ssi** :  
Boo Seungkwan please answer  
!!

Right. This. 

**Seungkwan** :  
Hello  
is everything alright?  
Sorry  
Busy schedule today ><

 **Kung-ssi** :  
My question is the same as before!  
Will 17 perform at the kwangsung festival??

 **Seungkwan** :  
Ah, sorry… I thought I messaged you earlier… 

Seungkwan _knows_ he told Kung this already, in fact, it is still in this very chat, not more than twenty messages ago. Kung is clearly ignoring it, because he doesn't like the answer.

 **Seungkwan** :  
We need the company's permission to do a performance  
And they didn't approve this  
I'm sorry, Kung-ssi…

 **Kung-ssi** :  
That's if you're taking money, right? What if you volunteer  
as a gift for an old friend?

 **Seungkwan** :  
Ahh, even then not the entire group, the company definitely wouldn't allow it 

**Kung-ssi** :  
If not everyone, then just Seungkwannie?  
You have a lot of solo projects!

 **Seungkwan** :  
I do, but the company still approves all of them.  
Especially if it's promotion…  
I'm sorry again but none of the members can perform

 **Kung-ssi** :  
Because seungkwan-ssi took so long to respond I trusted he would help…  
I didn't look for someone else  
The the festival is in 2 weeks, I'm in a tough situation now.

Seungkwan starts typing then stops. He doesn't know what to say. 

"Who are you talking to?" 

Seungkwan feels Mingyu's weight drop beside him on the couch. He's trying to be obnoxious, get Seungkwan annoyed, but instead Seungkwan just turns the screen to allow him a better look.

Mingyu scans the messages quickly. "The company said no?"

"Of course they did," Seungkwan mutters, and brings his thumbs back to the keys, trying to think of a response.

"Who's Kung-ssi?" Mingyu asks.

"From Pledis. Remember? Ages ago."

"Aah, the hyung with the chocolates?"

"Yeah." 

"How'd he get your number?" Mingyu takes a large bite of an apple. Because he knows this irritates Seungkwan, he gets in close to his ear when he chews. Better than burping, at least, but Seungkwan still flinches away, tsking in annoyance. 

"I gave it to him when he quit." 

Kung was one of the first executives to work with their group. He was a happy, reliable presence in the company when others could be strict and cold. Seungkwan never made Kung any promises, but he would truly like to help him, now. Unfortunately, he can't, and he can't get Kung to understand it. Usually, Seungkwan is good at letting people down graciously, but Kung is refusing to let this be anything but blunt and unpleasant.

Mingyu is prone to giving long, detailed, unsolicited advice. Usually, this is annoying – today, Seungkwan would welcome it. 

But all Mingyu does is take a noisy bite of his apple and say, "That was nice of you."

Seungkwan frowns. He forces his fingers to tap the screen, then can't look at the message as he sends it.

 **Seungkwan** :  
Sorry i'll see what i can do

Seungkwan can't close the conversation fast enough, and Mingyu starts in surprise when he sees what he wrote. "See what you can do??"

"If you had something better, you would've said it!" Seungkwan stands, annoyed. 

"' _Sorry, I'll make it up to you next time,_ '" Mingyu says. 

Damn it. 

Annoyed, Seungkwan grabs the apple from Mingyu's hand, takes a bite, then drops it in the trash bin as he leaves the room. He holds the apple bit in his mouth until he reaches a bathroom, and spits it out.

~

Seungcheol asks everyone to meet in his room after dinner to go over their upcoming schedule and air any issues. 

This is obviously when Seungkwan will have to tell them all about Youngwoon, which he is not looking forward to. Chan and Hansol want to check out a Japanese restaurant nearby, asking Seungkwan to come along. He does, but on the walk over his food app crashes.

"What's wrong?" Chan asks, catching his expression as they wait to cross the street.

Seungkwan taps again on the screen, swiping right, to yesterday, then left, to today, where the information has blanked out completely. 

"Uh – " Seungkwan says. "Nothing."

"What is that? Your dieting app?" Chan says.

"Yeah," Seungkwan says, closing it quickly, for some reason it feels far too intimate for anyone else to see. "It crashed. It's okay."

Hansol tsks, shaking his head. "You shouldn't be worried about that."

Hansol talks some about dieting. Seungkwan nods along as they walk to the restaurant, but it is fake. Seungkwan loves the way Hansol's beautiful mind works, which is the same way Seokmin's does. Their love for Seungkwan has nothing to do with his weight, and neither of them have ever had to worry about this. He wouldn't want to change the way Hansol thinks, it's precious and lovely but it is literally impossible for him to understand. 

They're seated, and Chan and Hansol look over the menu while Seungkwan tries to rebuild his day's intake from memory.

He hasn't completed it by the time the meal arrives, and he ends up picking at the plates in front of him. It looks good, it smells amazing, but the stress of the day has him starting to feel queasy.

"Heey, come on," Chan nudges him. "We can work out together when we get back if you want, there's an exercise rail in the gym – 

_Rail._

Seungkwan has such an explosive reaction that Chan stop short, eyes wide.

"What??" he asks.

Seungkwan shakes his head, pulling out his phone. Rail made him think of bike-rail, and bike-rail brought the mental image of his father's shop in Jeju, whichmade it finally click, why today’s date had looked like something to remember. It’s his father's birthday. Today. 

Seungkwan realizes he forgot to put the date in his calendar, and the guilt is intense enough to actually be numbing. They were distant in Seungkwan's childhood, and his hectic schedule has made it difficult to make a sincere effort at building a relationship today. 

For Soonyoung's father's birthday they bought a cake and sang happy birthday and sent him a video. This is the typical sort of thing they'll do for member's parents, and though he's not a very expressive man, Seungkwan knows his father's feelings will be hurt if he realizes he was forgotten. The late hour will already make it clear this was an afterthought. 

In a panic, he orders the birthday dessert the restaurant has on hand, which turns out to be a parfait. He has Hansol write _HAPPY BIRTHDAY_ on a piece of paper.

"But your handwriting's better," Hansol protests, all while writing. 

"He'll think the english is cool," Seungkwan says. 

He gathers in close with Chan and Hansol, takes a series of selfies, and sends all of them. 

He stares at his phone, waiting for a response – the service in this place must have been worse than he thought, because a wave of them all hit his phone at once. 

**Kung-ssi** :  
the fate of kwangsung festival is in your generous hands, seungkwannie… 

**Youngwoon** :  
No rush but they're asking me for an answer :(

 **SYSTEM** :  
Unable to deliver attachments to contact _Abeoji_  
.img  
.img  
.img  
.img 

**MyPlate** :  
_Careful~_  
You're close to exceeding your caloric intake for the week!  
This puts you in danger of missing your weight loss goal for the month!  
Eat mindfully!

 **Coups-hyung** :  
When you guys get back, come right to my room  
we're just waiting on you three

"Seungkwan… ?" Hansol asks, concerned.

Seungkwan looks up from his phone. 

He smiles, flips his phone face down, and then eats the entire parfait.


	2. Chapter Two

It's as crowded as Seungkwan expects it to be in Seungcheol's hotel room. 

The luckiest members are flopped on the beds, stretching across one each other's laps, and others are sharing the armchairs, leaning against the walls. There's really no room for Hansol, Chan, and Seungkwan when they arrive, but they manage to squeeze in anyway. 

This sort of set up is claustrophobic to strangers, their managers certainly can't handle it for very long, but Seungkwan's grown used to the steady press of his members around him. Being squeezed in alongside them mostly just feels private. Oddly safe, on some days. 

On days like today, like there's nowhere to hide. 

"Sorry, we didn't notice the time," Chan says for them, and Seungcheol waves it away, then shouts for the side conversations to quiet down, so they can start. 

"Our stylist says she's only got half of us scheduled for fitting," he says. "She says she needs to get everyone done before next week, so if you don't have a time set up already, text her." 

And so it goes. 

Chan mentions that they haven't had enough time or space to practice before the upcoming stage the way he would like. Minghao reminds them that they agreed to text before surprising each other at their doors. Jun mentions a dog he saw outside today, and it takes them a while to realize he doesn't have a specific concern about it. 

Seungkwan listens and nods thoughtfully along as each member speaks. He doesn't know what else he's doing, but whatever it is must be radiating unsettling vibes to the rest of them, they keep sending looks his way. 

Hansol's hand lands on his shoulder.

Ah. It stills him from the agitated rocking, which he's been doing, repeatedly back on to his heels, restless and urgent. 

Hansol gives him his own worried look, the same he's been wearing since the restaurant, but Seungkwan just smiles. 

"Anything else?" Seungcheol asks, loudly, when the conversation starts to break off into random, unhelpful tangents. 

Seungkwan inhales to speak, and it's a quiet noise but it does a better job of shutting the rest of them up than Seungcheol's shout. The entire room looks his way. Members of Seventeen just don't get to keep many secrets, apparently. They know each other too well, and they're shameless about asking. If Seungkwan doesn't say anything now, he'll be cornered not long after leaving the room regardless. 

"Everyone should know I was contacted by our manager this morning," he says. "He asked if I spent time with Lee Youngwoon."

"Who?" Soonyoung asks. 

"A rookie from Jeju. We exchanged numbers," Seungkwan says. The tension is building. Nothing Seungkwan's said so far is alarming, but even to his own ears he can hear how strained his voice is, struggling to keep a light and easy tone, and failing. "I found out that Youngwoon got into a bad situation, and – he used my name to try to get out of it."

" _Bad situation?_ " Jihoon repeats. He sounds angry, but Seungkwan speaks Jihoon, and knows that's just Jihoon-brand concern. 

"According to Youngwoon," Seungkwan says. "He was at a party with drugs, and someone recognized him. He was asked about it later, and he said he was never there. He said he was with me, in Daegu."

This takes a moment to process in the group, a quiet one, and Seungkwan simply cannot abide that unbearable, torturous beat of silence. 

He blurts out, "According to him, strangers showed up without being invited, and he left once he knew what was going on. He's an 02 liner. Solo artist – " 

"Wait, 'according to him,'" Wonwoo says. "You think he's lying?"

"I don't know," Seungkwan says, honestly. "I can't tell."

"What did you say? To our manager?" Seungcheol asks.

"I said no. I've never spent time with Youngwoon."

"So it's over? You took care of it?" 

".. Yeah," Seungkwan says. But it's so weak none of them take it seriously, and disgruntled voices erupt from all sides of the room.

"He can't just use your name like that."

"If there are _any_ holes in his story after you agreed to cover for him, you'll look like you were a part of all of it."

"What kind of drugs?"

"Why doesn't Youngwoon ask his friends who were actually there?"

"Do we even know this kid? What company is he with?"

"How well do you know him?"

"Not well," Seungkwan answers one of the easiest question he hears. "I just said he could reach out to me if he needed help."

The room gets silent again. Seungkwan realizes his voice wavered as he said it, a weak, defeated sounding thing. He shakes his head, laughing shortly. 

"No, sorry. I know, it's fine," Seungkwan says. "I'll take care of it."

"Seungkwan," Seungcheol says. Seungkwan bites his lip, bracing himself to face the anger – rightfully – that Seungkwan put himself in this situation, gave out his name, number, and promises, to a virtual stranger. Seungkwan knows, he knows, he doesn't need to hear it. He looks up, toward his leader. But Seungcheol's not angry. He's not even annoyed. He gives Seungkwan an encouraging nod. "We all trust you. You do what you think is best."

Hansol's hand tightens on Sengkwan's shoulder. A squeeze of agreement.

The tension eases from the room. The agreement settles, comforted as they're all reminded: of course Seungkwan knows what to do – Seungkwan always knows what to do. 

Seungkwan nods. It must be relief that makes his voice faint, "Thank you."

He sees the general shape of Mingyu standing in one of the corners with his arms crossed. 

Seungkwan had no choice but to make eye contact when Seungcheol asked, but there's no way he's giving that to Mingyu. It's done. It's over. It's all taken care of and settled, painless and easy, but Mingyu likes to talk, and he'll take any excuse he can to keep dragging it out, asking questions. There's no need for that. 

Jeonghan announces, abruptly, that he's sorry, really, but he can't stand it anymore, and he needs a new roommate. 

It sets off a shuffle, Wonwoo for Seokmin, Seokmin for Soonyoung, and so on, ending with Seungkwan swapping into Mingyu's room.

"Everyone happy with that?"

No. For so many reasons, no. But fighting it would cause more problems than it's worth. 

He packs up his luggage from the room, swaps keycards with Soonyoung. He rolls his luggage into the elevator, and stares at the little, circular button beside floor 10, where his new roommate Mingyu waits. 

He hits _Ground Floor/Lobby 1st_ instead.

-

The dining room is closed, but Seungkwan must have looked either pitiful or recognizable enough for the hotel staff to wave him in indulgently and give him a bit of left over dessert. The room is empty now, and Seungkwan is slumped forward onto the table, tapping one of his chopsticks on the rim of his bowl, the thought of even checking his phone feels nauseating. 

For the moment, exactly now, exactly where he is, is a comforting numbness. 

There's unpleasant things waiting for him, but they feel just far enough away. He can wait, he can sit here and listen to the _tink tink tink_ of the chopstick on the bowl. 

Someone walks into the room and Seungkwan sits up straight, ready to apologize to what he's sure is the manager for imposing, but then it's Mingyu.

Irritation – intense, but irrational, Seungkwan knows it is. 

It was good of Mingyu to check, Seungkwan tries to remind himself. Just – Seungkwan had been counting on Mingyu to be asleep already by the time he sneaked into the room. Mingyu should be in bed, snoring, but here he is, walking toward Seungkwan, like Seungkwan is his business, or something. 

_But no thoughtful hyung would just go to sleep like that!_

Ugh. 

Mingyu is probably driven by altruistic concern, but his expression looks more like annoyed, squinty eyed, like maybe he had dozed off while waiting.

"Seungkwan - "

"Well, that went better than I thought it would!" Seungkwan says, just a little too loudly. "You know I was worried all day! I really thought they'd be angry, that I was causing problems for everyone, something like that. My members really are great – "

"It's almost midnight."

"Mmhm, it's a midnight snack. Want some?" Seungkwan says, pinching up a bite of the dessert, holding it toward Mingyu. That will bring Mingyu closer, which Seungkwan doesn't particularly want right now, but it will also shut up him. "It's pear, it's almost too sweet but it's good if the bite is small enough – "

"You didn't tell them about Kung," Mingyu sighs, like the fact alone exhausts him – and the annoyance spikes sharp in Seungkwan. 

"I told the company," he says, and dropping the rejected dessert back onto the plate. "And that's not the same thing as Youngwoonie, right? No one's going to be leaking that online. Festival plans aren't going to damage anyone's reputation. I'll manage it." He doesn't want to get into that, and tries to divert it back to a happier topic. "Aah, really, I should've said something about Youngwoon sooner, it's good to hear that I have the member's trust. I mean, I knew they trusted me, obviously, but Seungcheol-hyung saying it means a lot, I'll have to thank him later... Everyone agreed, too. That was nice."

"Seungkwan – "

"It's late though, you're right. What time is your fitting? I thought it was early – "

"You don't have to fix every problem you hear about, Seungkwan," Mingyu says, flatly.

Seungkwan stutters to a stop, derailed. "I know that." 

"Kung-ssi and Youngwoon's problems aren't your problems," Mingyu says. 

"I _know_ that," Seungkwan says, setting his jaw.

"You told them that?" Mingyu says. "That you 're not going to help?"

"Later," he says, and Mingyu cocks his head to the side, raising a doubting eyebrow. "What? You think I'm lying?" 

Mingyu shifts, pulling out his own phone from his back pocket. "Give me Kung's number."

" _Why?_ "

"Because," Mingyu looks him straight in the eye, and says, very calmly, "I don't think you know what to do."

Seungkwan's mouth drops open, unable to find his voice for a moment from sheer outrage. How _dare_ Mingyu. He feels his face start to heat. Just because he's taking a few moments to gather himself, to make sure he says the right thing – how could Mingyu _assume_ – Seungcheol himself said it, what more did Mingyu need to hear?? 

"I _know_ – " 

"This is hard for you," Mingyu interrupts, but he's not returning Seungkwan's anger at all, and his matter of fact tone sets Seungkwan's teeth on edge. "Because for you, it's you or them. And you don't want to pick yourself. You want to be nice."

"It's not _just me_ – "

"I know, but listen - for me, this is easy," Mingyu says. "Because for me, it's Youngwoon, or Seungkwan. Kung, or Seungkwan. And that's not a hard decision." He shakes his head. "I'm always going to pick Seungkwan."

Seungkwan stops. 

Mingyu is still calm. Waiting. Ready to enter in the numbers into his phone. 

Maybe he's embarrassed about what he just said, he _ought_ to be, but he doesn't look it. 

For him that was just a simple, obvious fact of the world. Grass is green, the sky blue, and the sun rises in the east, creating sunny days for children to play across fields, for teenagers to hide away in the shade, groaning about the heat, for adults to hurry to and from work, and for Mingyu to pick Seungkwan, every time he's given the choice. 

"That's – it's not that simple." 

"It's not that simple for them," Mingyu says. "Because it's their problem. It's not that simple for you, because you want to fix it. But it is that simple for me."

"You – " Seungkwan starts. He stares past Mingyu, like he's hoping for more, better thoughts to come. None do. 

Mingyu waits for him to finish, but Seungkwan can't.

"Fine," Seungkwan mutters, embarrassed _for_ Mingyu.

Seungkwan starts pulling out his phone, and it's only now that Mingyu approaches, and takes a seat on the bench beside Seungkwan. And it's only now that Seungkwan realizes how much he would've recoiled, furious, if Mingyu had done so any earlier. He frowns down at his chest, annoyed and embarrassed at being so easy for Mingyu to handle, apparently. 

He reads off the digits to Kung's number in a sullen, pouty way. 

Mingyu spends the next minute or two typing. 

"Youngwoon, too," Mingyu says, once he's done. 

Seungkwan stares, then slowly opens the contact. He reads off his number, too.

Mingyu nods, typing away again.

"What are you saying," Seungkwan asks, scooting closer to Mingyu on the bench, leaning onto his shoulder to look. Mingyu doesn't hide his screen.

 **Mingyu** :  
Youngwoon, this is Seungkwan's hyung Kim Mingyu.  
None of our members went to Daegu three weeks ago, we were in Seoul filming.  
Our schedule is public, so you must have mixed up Seungkwan with a different hyung  
If you have any questions about our schedule from three weeks ago, you can text me ^^

"We were filming?"

"Sure," Mingyu shrugs, which Seungkwan can only assume means he has no idea. When Seungkwan asks, Mingyu pulls up the message he sent to Kung, too.

 **Mingyu** :  
Kung-ssi, this is Seungkwan's hyung Mingyu  
Unfortunately he can't help plan your festival  
Our current schedule needs our full attention  
Seungkwan needs to put all his focus and thoughts toward his group.  
If you have any questions about this you can text me. ^^

"That _smiley_ , Mingyu," Seungkwan scoffs, knocking his shoulder. "That's so rude."

The telling off does nothing, Mingyu's got a shameless smile on his face, clearly proud of himself. When he stands up, he holds out his hand behind him, for Seungkwan to take. Seungkwan takes it, and shuffles after him to the elevator, then to their shared room.

He's too lazy to change properly. He kicks off his jeans then crawls into bed, the same one as Mingyu, hugging tight to Mingyu's arm. 

"If you need help, you should say something," Mingyu says. 

"I didn't know I did," Seungkwan mumbles. He presses his face into the warm, familiar skin of Mingyu's shoulder. 

Now, suddenly free of the burden, he realizes how heavy the weight was. He can also see clearly why the words from the others had not helped. Seungcheol adding his trust on top of the pile Seungkwan was already carrying had nearly paralyzed him, terrified of taking a wrong step and sending it crashing to the floor along with everything else, where it would shatter, hopelessly. 

It's shameful, and especially so because it's Mingyu who could see it for what it was, apparently having a knack for finding Seungkwan in these kinds of circumstances.

After a long moment of comfortable silence, Mingyu kisses his forehead. _Don't be embarrassed_.

Seungkwan huffs to himself, clinging tighter.

Mingyu's proud of himself for helping. He's always proud of himself for helping. Seungkwan can practically smell it on him, even proud of himself for being able to reach the night stand from where he's laying, and switch off the light. 

They shift and settle under the blankets, until Seungkwan is practically laying on top of Mingyu's chest. 

The room is dark and quiet for several minutes, the safety and secrecy that inherently comes from a late hour coming along with it.

"… I ate too much today."

"What did you have?" Mingyu asks, mimicking Seungkwan's solemn whisper, keeping the secret between the two of them.

Seungkwan lists it all: The honey toast and the kimchi, the soup, the rice, the meat, the parfait, and ending with that sugary sweet pear. 

Mingyu listens, petting fingers through Seungkwan's hair. 

"Yeah. That's more than normal," Mingyu says, when he's finished. "It's not too bad though."

"I wanted to be disciplined," Seungkwan says. "I was planning to be extra good today."

"Well, you probably won't have any parfaits tomorrow," Mingyu says. "You can be extra good then, if you want – "

"My messages aren't going through to my father," Seungkwan blurts out in a rapid, breathless confession, then presses his lips together tight.

That one Mingyu doesn't seem to have a response to, his hand pausing on top of Seungkwan's head. 

"Do you think he changed his number?" Mingyu asks. 

"I don't know," Seungkwan says. "It's been months since we talked, I didn't try to call him. I only noticed on his birthday."

"He didn't call you either, though," Mingyu says. "It could just be bad service."

"It could." 

There are some good things about Mingyu. One of the best is that he's not intimidated by heavy thoughts. 

Moodiness can make the other members uncomfortable, and usually they'll try to ignore it, or talk each other out of it. Seungkwan doesn't react well to that, and Mingyu is good at acknowledging the problem without trying to cheer Seungkwan up. His comments are practical and frank, neutral things that don't encourage Seungkwan's moodiness, or dismiss it. 

It just exists. It just how life is, tonight. The moon is in the sky, Jeonghan is struggling to fall asleep, Youngwoon is sitting awake somewhere, terrified and unsure of what to do, Kung is stressed and overworked, his father is a massive unknown, and Seungkwan carries the guilt of it all. And Mingyu is there, watching, and helping when he can.

"Your mom might know," Mingyu finally suggests softly.

" _Jeonghan-hyung_ might know," Seungkwan mutters, and Mingyu cracks up. 

The conversation is lighter from there, the pauses between their comments growing longer and longer. Seungkwan closes his eyes, and ends up falling asleep like this, on top of Mingyu, being petted.

-

Seungkwan wakes up too early, having to pee. 

He wiggles out of bed, takes care of business, then climbs onto the mattress, resting on his knees to admire Mingyu in the early morning light. 

He's gorgeous, as always, but also cute, hair puffed up, expression relaxed. 

He has such a baby face, Seungkwan thinks, not for the first time. 

He's handsome in a perfectly soft, non-threatening way, the sort of handsomeness very little girls would like to imagine on their future prince charming. His voice is soft, too. He's so tall, and he's strong, and he's smart, but he's so utterly, utterly soft. The softness is what makes him easy for others to underestimate. To light up in delight when they realize he's actually got a sense of humor, that he's resourceful and clever. They feel like impossible bonuses on top of what he already has. 

He's also especially warm, which Seungkwan learns when Mingyu wakes up just enough to see Seungkwan further away on the bed than he likes. He wraps Seungkwan up in his arms, huffing like he's a bit annoyed Seungkwan ever left the bed at all. 

He's not even trying to show off, but he rolls, easily taking Seungkwan with him, to rest on his opposite side. 

"I have my fitting at seven," Mingyu whines, pitifully. 

Seungkwan gives a sympathetic pat. "It's six am."

Mingyu whines again, like this is deeply unfair of Seungkwan to say.

"Guess what I got yesterday," Seungkwan whispers, suddenly remembering some happy news.

Mingyu grunts, low and short and only politely interested. 

"The outline for _Last Match_."

"Oh?" Mingyu says – that's real interest, and he finally opens his eyes. 

Seungkwan nods and reaches over Mingyu, for his phone. 

It's become like this, for variety shows – even if it's a solo appearance, Mingyu and Seungkwan end up reviewing and preparing together, excited about it in a way the others just aren't. 

They huddle together, still under the blanket, as Seunkgwan opens the attachment. 

"Wonfei is appearing?" Mingyu asks when he sees the guest list on the first page. "The trot singer?"

"Yeah, but I'll only be on teams with Sooah," Seungkwan says. 

"Too bad," Mingyu says. "You sing trot, right?"

"I can. I thought about suggesting something, but it's Wonfei's first show... and it's not really about singing," Seungkwan shakes his head. "It would look greedy."

"Hn. Maybe one day."

They get to the opening questions, which are standard, and will probably be more fleshed out once they arrive on the day. 

" _Seungkwan-ssi, what projects do you want to share with us today?_ " Mingyu asks, voice going chipper and curious. "Hey, you should prepare a trot song. Just in case."

"Mmm," Seungkwan says, like he's still considering the idea, but knowing he'll do just that. 

"Is this the one with the obstacle course?"

"Yeah, at the end," Seungkwan says. 

They read through the games, there's a strict one that involves a series of escalating punishments.

"You'll want to practice," Mingyu says. 

Seungkwan hums, agreeing, but it's too early for anything as practical as that. They've finished the outline, and Seungkwan turns off his phone. 

They drop into a mutual silence – there's still thirty minutes until Mingyu has to get up. And Mingyu's the type that likes to rest as long as he can. 

But his hand is on Seungkwan's lower back. 

Thirty minutes.

They've done more with less. 

Seungkwan's opening gambit is a soft press of his lips against Mingyu's neck, too dry to really be a kiss. Mingyu sighs, shifting his neck to give Seungkwan more room. Seungkwan does it again, higher, this time. 

Mingyu hasn't made up his mind yet, and Seungkwan can tell. His body is still soft and placid. But Seungkwan is getting worked up, excited, pleasure like a pulsing nerve, starting to wake up and coming over him in waves. _How about it, Kim Mingyu? Sleep or sex?_

He makes up his mind by reaching between them. He gets both of them in his hand, stroking as long as they can stand without the lube, and by then Seungkwan's hips are moving on their own, grinding down again and again into his grip, moaning into Mingyu's neck and mouth. 

He reaches blindly for the bedstand, finds the lotion and squeezes it on his hand, then joins Mingyu's grip, for a moment it's a slick, goopy mess, and then it's even better than before, the slide of Mingyu and Seungkwan's palms and cocks smooth and wet and hot. 

Mingyu groans. Low voice. Seungkwan listens, enjoying the sound of a man's obvious pleasure, of Mingyu's pleasure, like a caress. 

Mingyu's free hand lands on the back of Seungkwan's neck, pulling him down into a kiss, and Seungkwan falls into it eagerly, but it's so hard to manage when he's this close to coming, breath so short and his body full of such urgent energy, wanting nothing more than the keep going with that repeated, ruthless rhythm with his hips, again. Again, and feel that same instinct in the body below him, thrusting up – god each slide is so goddamn good, and Mingyu hisses his name, then kisses him, hand slapping down on his ass then gripping it possessively, and Seungkwan comes.

The arousal continues to burn at a pleasant, low level as Mingyu uses his body to get off, grinding up against him, his dick hard, thick, finding pleasure with each rub against Seungkwan. He comes, and Seungkwan hums his congratulations, kissing and petting. 

He almost asks Mingyu to stay, but just to be a brat – to whine and put on an obnoxious voice so Mingyu can tell him no, very reasonably. He doesn't because he's not sure if Mingyu would have the strength to actually leave the bed. 

He does leave the bed. He showers, and Seungkwan watches silently from under the covers as he gets dressed. 

"Sorry you can't sleep in," Seungkwan says, doing a poor job of hiding his bragging, nuzzling his pillow.

"This is kind of nice," Mingyu says, as he pushes on his shoes. "Knowing you're here waiting. In my bed."

"This isn't your bed," Seungkwan says, and kicks toward him.

"But that kind of thing."

"This is why everyone hates you, Kim Mingyu," Seungkwan says, covering his face with the blanket but he knows the blush is obvious in his voice. He pulls the blanket down again a second later. "Come here."

Mingyu does, leaning in close, and Seungkwan gives him a kiss that's as fast and sharp as a slap.

It pleases Mingyu though, who gives him finger guns before leaving the room. God, what an asshole. Seungkwan reaches for his phone, and opens his conversation with Mingyu.

 **Seungkwan** :  
Learn some shame!!  
Really!! 

**Mingyu** :  
go back to sleep, baby.

It's not even seven yet, so that is what Seungkwan ends up doing, but it's not because Mingyu said it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> jsyk there's 1 more chapter left


End file.
